


Nothing to See Here

by Fairyglass



Category: Stargate - All Media Types, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Drabble, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 08:26:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17639294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fairyglass/pseuds/Fairyglass
Summary: Finish this sentence: John and Rodney walk into a bar....





	Nothing to See Here

**Author's Note:**

> Written sometime 2011, found in an old WIP folder. It seems done?

“Where is this?” John closed the door of the cab behind them, slapping the roof and sending it off.

“This,” Rodney said with no small amount of smug enthusiasm. “Is the Mill Street Brewery.”

John tilted his face up, looking over the brick building with a deeper appreciation. People congregated about outside, moving in twos and threes, sometimes as large as fours and fives, just talking and laughing – generally enjoying the cool Saturday evening.

It was so very different to what they see in Pegasus. These people didn’t even know what they were protected from, what he and Rodney did daily to keep them all safe. But, as a woman’s laughter rose above the white noise, its high sound crisp in his ears, John is suddenly reminded of Teyla on a team movie night. When he and Rodney really get into it, trying to both explain the movie and vying for dominance in their particular flavor of science fiction philosophy, and how it usually just ended with her honey-rich laughter for their antics.

And maybe it wasn’t so different after all.

“C'mon,” Rodney says warmly in his ear and, innocuously enough, reaches out to tangle his fingers with John’s. John’s entire left-side stiffens out of a long trained habit. McKay huffs a quick, impatient breath and practically snatches John’s hand from where it’s trying to hide behind the swing of his leather jacket. “Hello, Ontario, Canada? And it’s hardly like you’re in uniform, _Colonel_.” John winces gently, because Rodney says his rank like a dirty thing. And right now? It kind of feels like it is, he guesses. At least its implications – and restrictions – are.

But he’s here in Toronto, on downtime, with his **boyfriend** Rodney. In a week, they’ll fly from Ontario to BC and visit with the Millers. Theoretically, he can relax and just be himself. Whoever THAT might be.

********

********

“Yeah.” John bites his lips together and does more than just accept Rodney’s hand-holding; John slides his arm around Rodney’s waist, drawing the broad man up against his leaner frame and buries his face against the side of Rodney’s neck. He nuzzles a silent apology behind Rodney’s ear. Rodney hums contentedly, Sheppard easily forgiven, before drawing John towards the entrance. A hostess smiles at them and asks if they’d prefer seats in the bar or the restaurant. Easy. Normal. Nothing to be court martialed over to be seen here.

Rodney lifts his chin, cosseting John against himself purposefully. Because Rodney McKay is about as subtle in his possession as a 2x4 to the face. “The bar, please. I need to teach this man what real beer tastes like.”

“What?” John’s eyebrow arches high.

McKay’s free hand waves dismissively. “Please. That crap you drink? It comes in cans.”

“You’ve never had a problem with it before. You’ve drunk it!”

“The things we’ll do for love,” Rodney retorts drily.

The young woman tucks a smile away as she leads them into what John will readily admit is a pretty awesome looking bar. “Start him with a Tankhouse,” she recommends to Rodney, her finger reaching up to tap the side of her nose, one eye winking.

Rodney nods readily enough, fingers snapping-into-a-point at her advice. John just lets a smile take his mouth.


End file.
